


Territorial

by ReisDular



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReisDular/pseuds/ReisDular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reaper doesn't like competition</p>
            </blockquote>





	Territorial

The pungent scent of an Omega’s heat wafted through the twilight hitting Reaper like a ton of bricks. Muttering curses in Spanish the wraith pushed himself up from the catwalk where he’d been lounging to peer over the edge. On the ground, for once, below strode Hanzo the Japanese bowman Widowmaker had often scoffed at, whom reaper himself had never much cared for.

 

_‘Well isn’t this something,’_ The wraith thought to himself as he dropped into a crouch. ‘ _And where does he think he’s going?’_

 

He followed Hanzo silently, moving from shadow to shadow along the catwalks. Below him the bowman’s path was slow and meandering, but the further he went the more obvious his destination became. Reaper made it his business to know approximately where everyone on base was at any given time, and there was only one person, one Alpha, in the barracks this early in the evening.

 

Hanzo climbed the stairs into the barracks and stopped in front of the first door on the left.

 

Reaper snarled and broke himself apart. He solidified within the barracks, lashing out with his metal claws as he did. Hanzo, alert despite his obvious condition, whirled around and leapt back. Reaper felt his claws catch and slice cleanly, but they came away with only silk as their prize.

 

“Don’t even think about it, _Ése_ ,” he rumbled claws at the ready. He would have loved nothing more than to pull his shotguns on the presumptuous little fool but he’d been forced into _promises_.

 

Hanzo bared his teeth. His body fell naturally into a defensive, open handed stance.

 

“I was not aware a _ghost_ could stake a claim,” He spat. His haughty tone grated on Reaper’s nerves.

 

“I’m making you aware.” Reaper edged forward, intending to herd the bowman away from the door. Hanzo didn’t back down.

 

“Then I am challenging your claim.”

 

Reaper saw red and lunged for the other Omega. Hanzo dodged the charge and landed several jabs to the wraith’s flank, but between Kevlar padding, super soldier conditioning, and all the other weird shit Reaper’s body had been through the sharp blows did little to faze him. On the contrary, they grounded him to his purpose, allowed him to quickly analyse the bowman.

 

Hanzo was small and quick, but Gabriel Reyes hadn’t spent two years in super soldier training camp for shits and giggles. Reaper was larger, stronger, and, more importantly, had a longer reach. He pivoted with an almost fascinating amount of grace and swung. Too late the bowman realized he’d misjudged the distance between them. The weight behind the swing broke easily through his hurried attempt to guard. The blow connected with his ear and Hanzo stumbled, biting down on the cry of shock and pain. Reaper slammed the other man into the adjacent wall, pinning him there with an arm across his chest. Hanzo grimaced, but the defiance never left his eyes.

 

“You couldn’t handle him, _Chavalo_. Why don’t you go look for someone in your own league? McCree’ll take anyone who flutters their skirts at him. Even a little _fresa_ like you.”

 

“You underestimate me, Wraith!”

 

Reaper brandished his claws, “I can’t decide whether I want to cut out your tongue or gouge out your ey-“

 

“What the _hell_ is going on out here?”

 

Reaper froze and Hanzo’s eyes focused over the wraith’s shoulder. The scent of the Omega suddenly spiked, his hormones spurred by the newly arrived Alpha’s presence. Reaper gagged and jostled Hanzo back against the wall. There was a moment of silence and Reaper grit his teeth as the Alpha behind them scented the air.

 

“Gabriel,” Jack’s voice was tired, but commanding, “let Hanzo go.”

 

Reaper’s hackles rose, “He’s sniffing around where he doesn’t belong!”

 

“And you have him pinned. I’d say you’ve won.”

 

“He hasn’t learned his lesson yet!”

 

Strong arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him gently back against a barrel chest. Reaper scrabbled to hook his claws into Hanzo; his flesh, his haori, anything! But it was too late. Reaper’s back was pressed against Jack who buried his face into the crook of Reaper’s neck. The wraith couldn’t help going limp. Hanzo seethed at the display but said nothing. Instead he hunched down slightly in acknowledgement of his defeat.

 

The display of submission, however reluctant it was, soothed some of Reaper’s territorial rage. He turned into Jack’s embrace and ducked his head down to butt it up under the Alpha male’s chin. It was as much a territorial display to Hanzo as it was a submissive gesture to his Alpha. Jack closed his eyes and nuzzled the top of Reaper’s hooded head in return. Hanzo edged away from the pair silently.

 

Once the bowman was gone Jack let out a long suffering sigh, “Gabriel, will you stop trying to kill other Omegas who get close to me?”

 

“No.”

 

“You know I’m not going to accept one.”

 

Gabriel knew. In all the years they’d been at each other’s throats, and even the consequent years in which they’d been torn apart, they’d never fallen into the company of others. Even if they hadn’t known each other’s hearts they would have known. They could smell it on each other’s clothes and taste it on each other’s skin. Their problems had never sprung from fidelity or a lack thereof.

 

“That’s not the point,” Gabriel insisted, as he always did. “They just need to _know_ and I need to _beat it into them_!”

 

Alright, alright,” Jack soothed, unhooking Gabriel’s claws from where they’d torn into his shirt in agitation.

 

Gabriel crowded closer in against Jack, enveloping himself in a cocoon of the Alpha’s, _his_ Alpha’s, scent.

 

“How about,” Jack began as he extricated himself from his Omega’s grasp, ignoring the sound of protest it caused, “we take this somewhere private?”

 

Gabriel resisted half-heartedly as Jack tried to pull him back into his room

 

“Or,” he counter offered, “we could just stay right here. In the hall. Where everyone can see and know and never try to touch you ever again.”

 

“What? And miss out on you fighting other Omegas over me?”

 

“You just said-“

 

“Yeah, but that’s not the _point_!”

 

Gabriel growled and let a laughing Jack drag them back into his room.

**Author's Note:**

> Lexicon
> 
> Ése is like dude, guy, bro but the less familiar you are with a person the more rude it is to address them this way.  
> Chavalo is like 'little boy'. I'd never heard of this one.  
> Fresa literally means strawberry but apparently it can refer to uppity, uptight people in a flowery but unflattering way.
> 
> I looked up East LA slang. It was a trip.
> 
> I've never understood the Omegaverse, as much as I enjoy the works I sometimes find there, so I figured I'd take a crack at it based on my own interpretations and knowledge of canine 'culture'. There is a terrifying thing that happens between female dogs called 'bitch aggression' wherein two bitches will decide they don't like each other's faces and they need to fuck each other up. This behavior is observable in wild dogs where breeding females will fight to establish and maintain breeding rights. Two Omegas fighting over an Alpha is something I've never seen in the trope and seemed like a fun subversion as well as being closer to the actual truth of some canine interactions.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
